


Strange words

by little_frodo



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Language Kink, M/M, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-10 23:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19518673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_frodo/pseuds/little_frodo
Summary: They don't speak the same language, but that doesn't stop them from being naughty.





	Strange words

**Author's Note:**

> I don't care if King Ecbert or Ragnar fits into that scene or not, it's only about my two favourite fluffcakes: Heahmund and Ivar. I hope you enjoy this little story and have fun! <3

Heahmund leaned back in the chair he was sitting on and watched the round of people that was lounging here with him, eating a nice dinner meal after a long and exhausting day.

King Ecbert was there, talking to one of the heathens that Heahmund had already heard about: Ragnar Lothbrok. He was a tall man and a quite impressive human being, as all the stories that were told about him were true. But king Ecbert wasn't afraid of him: he seemed to enjoy the pact that they had just made today, outside in the windy mountains of Wessex.

There were some more vikings and heathens sitting at the table with them; Heahmund didn't like their company, since they were rude and ate like animals, behaving like drunken bastards. But since he had to obey, he tried to look as if he enjoyed the company around this table.

There was only one person who was making it hard for him to not stand up and ask what the hell was wrong: one young viking boy, one of the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. If Heahmund had heard it right, his name was Ivar. 

And Ivar seemed to stare at him permanently.

Heahmund thought at first, that this young boy who seemed to be at the age of 17 hasn't seen any other people than his own; but when the stares of the blue eyed heathen didn't stop, Heahmund was really getting angry inside.

It was just then when Ivars eyes were rushing over to Heahmund again. Heahmund stared back for a while, trying to make a calm face even if he would have loved to stump over the table and press that kind of handsome face directly onto the hard wood of the table. While he watched the young heathen smirked a bit, raising his cup of mead up to cheer; Heahmund joined, still focusing on not losing his inner strength.

He would have asked the boy what was wrong, but he knew that the heathens – except for Ragnar – did not speak their language. So that little shit wouldn't even understand what he was saying.

No effort on that, though.

*

Heahmund walked down the empty hallway, only lighted up by some fires. It was getting colder in the lands, and he was glad to be in his bed in a few moments.

So he opened the door to his room, but suddenly pulled a knife out when he saw someone already sitting on his bed, grinning as if it was the most normal thing in the world: it was the young viking Ivar.

“What are you doing in here?” Heahmund asked rough, standing still in the frame of the door and watching that heathen sit there completely calm with his disabled legs. Heahmund hadn't asked Ecbert about this by now; he let his gaze wander over the legs, before he saw the young boy forming a smile.

“Jeg ønsket å se deg...”, Ivar said, and Heahmund raised one of his brows.

“What did you say? God, this is not your room. Go away, please.”, Heahmund said and raised one arm to point to the hallway, but Ivar stayed were he was. The blue eyes nearly ate him, so much they stared at him and were watching every movement of the bishop.

When Ivar still didn't move, Heahmund came closer until he was standing right in front of the young heathen. 

Ivar bit his lip when Heahmund came that close, and Heahmund tried to ignore that. There was something in these eyes that was fascinating... and pretty wild.

“Jeg vil vise deg noe....du vil like det.” Ivar whispered and nodded over to the door that was still open.

Heahmund took a look to the door, but still stood where he was – he did not really knew what that boy wanted, so he took one of his hands and wanted to pull him off the bed.

Ivar hissed; his brows lowered and his expression became a bit angry, and he pulled Heahmunds hand closer.

“lukk døren....”, Ivar whispered; he let go of Heahmunds hand and nodded to the door again. Heahmund wasn't really happy about that, but since he just wanted to have his rest, he thought he might obey. There was a small chance that the boy was going out afterwards, otherwise he would just look out for Ragnar.

So Heahmund rolled his eyes and went to the door to shut it; when he did, he came back to Ivar and sat down on the bed next to him.

The viking smiled at him, showing off a clean white row of teeth. 

“Now, what do you want from me?” Heahmund said quietly; the young boy seemed to know what he was talking about, but he didn't answer in english.

His hands were suddenly close to Heahmunds face, touching the scar on his cheek. Heahmund hissed a bit and pulled his face away, angry – but Ivar just snickered and touched the scar again, rougher now.

“Jeg liker dette arret. Jeg vil ha deg, du er en attraktiv mann....”

Heahmund did not understand a single word, but he felt what Ivar meant when his fingers traced down his chin and his throat. By all the gods, how did that little asshole knew what he longed for?

“If you want this, I cannot give this to you. Your father has a pact with my king – it would not be good to fuck his son.” Heahmund murmured; when the word fuck fell, Ivar pulled Heahmunds face close to his, grabbing his nails into the scratching hairs of Heahmunds beard.

“Det er det jeg vil ha...Heahmund.”

It made him hot, hearing the heathen spit out his name like it was a curse; he countered the gaze of the young heathen, and with one forceful movement their mouths locked, hard, unforgiving, as wild as the language that Ivar was speaking.

It did not take long for Heahmund to press the young boy down to the furs with his back turning towards him; since they didn't speak any word the same, Heahmund couldn't ask if Ivar liked it soft or not – but the heathen was already groaning underneath him, shivering with pleasure when Heahmund pulled his pants down and shoved the shirt up to caress the soft skin on the boys back.

“You won't be able to feel any sort of pleasure with another man again when I am done with you”, Heahmund muttered against Ivars skin while biting and sucking his back; Ivar moaned deeply, using words Heahmund did not understand.

But he didn't care neither. He pulled his own breaches down, his cock already hard from the look at Ivars round buttock; he spit on his fingers until they were wet enough and entered the young heathen with them; one first, the second joined fast, and when Ivar seemed to swear and looked back at Heahmund with way much more pleasure than any women he had ever been with, a third one. 

“Fuck me...” Ivar groaned out with a strong accent, leaving Heahmund surprised for a second; he pulled out his digits, biting back a smirk – that boy was good. Heahmund spit on his own cock, wetting it enough for Ivars ass. And when he entered, it was with a curse on his lips, same as Ivar who was clenching his fingers into the furs underneath him. 

Ivar was so hot, so tight, so silky inside, that Heahmund almost had serious problems with not spilling his load right then and now.

But he wasn't gentle, not a second. He pushed deep into Ivar, thrusting hard and rough just how he imagined Ivar would like it. And he did.

Ivars cheeks were red and flushed, and his eyes were closed when Heahmund tucked his hair and began fucking him real hard – it was a massive joy for Heahmund watching the young boy completely turned on, already close to his orgasm.

When Ivar came, his muscles were vibrating so hard around Heahmunds cock that he came too, biting back a loud, deep groan - he only pressed his body down to Ivar and thrusted every wave of his orgasm tightly into Ivars heat.

They did not let go of each other when they were done; Ivar had his sweated head placed on Heahmunds chest, still panting hard.

Heahmund let his fingers run through the vikings dark hair, watching the ceiling while he enjoyed the warm breath of Ivar on his skin.

“igjen?”, Ivar asked softly, kissing the hallow of Heahmunds shoulder.

“Of course.” Heahmund answered, pulling the heathen into a heated kiss.


End file.
